


Mistletoe

by Laurasauras



Series: 2019 Holiday ficlets [4]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Christmas Fluff, Dream Bubbles (Homestuck), M/M, Mistletoe
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-31
Updated: 2019-12-31
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:22:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22061764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Laurasauras/pseuds/Laurasauras
Summary: John and Karkat are just hanging out in a dream bubble. Please ignore all the mistletoe, it's very likely not relevant.
Relationships: John Egbert/Karkat Vantas
Series: 2019 Holiday ficlets [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569544
Comments: 3
Kudos: 39





	Mistletoe

#### 4th Day of Christmas: Mistletoe

Dream bubbles, you think, are bullshit. 

You don’t hate being dead so much, there’s a lot of people to talk to and it’s pretty cool to be thinking idly about that one ice cream shop you went to with your dad and then suddenly be there and you can eat all the ice cream you want. You just don’t like that you can’t turn that _off._ You think the slightest thought and suddenly it’s all over the place for anyone to see!

So you’ve been thinking about Christmas stuff, and the bubbles have been providing, which is awesome. And the Karkat that is with you is endlessly fascinated in human culture, so that’s awesome too. What is less awesome is that for completely unknown reasons! This bubble is full of fucking mistle toe!

Karkat nudges one of the ones hanging from red ribbon from absolutely nothing and it swings back and forth as if it has a normal anchorage point. He kind of reminds you of a cat, what with the reaching up to tap something on a ribbon and the way his ears go back and his eyes widen with interest. He unties the ribbon with some difficulty (you love every one of the three inches you have on him) and then before you can stop him, pops it in his mouth. 

‘I really don’t think you should eat that!’ you say, stepping towards him in concern.

‘It tastes like crap anyway,’ Karkat says, covering his mouth. ‘Ugh, where can I even spit this out.’

‘Literally anywhere?’ you say. ‘Space isn’t real, bulgewringer.’

‘I regret teaching you Alternian swears,’ Karkat says. ‘Turn the fuck around, I’m not spitting in front of you, I’m not an animal.’

You make a “weeeell” kind of skeptical noise, and turn around before Karkat changes his mind about manners and spits the mistle toe at you instead. You hear him spit, but keep turned away. There’s just so much of the stupid stuff in this place, which is a mismatch of half your living room, the public library you sometimes went to and a corner of Karkat’s bedroom. Outside one of the windows is inner-city Seattle. Outside another is just … emptiness.

There’s more mistletoe growing from the floor now. You kick at it grumpily. 

‘What is it then, if not a snack?’ Karkat asks.

‘Stupid Christmas tradition,’ you say.

‘I know you’re like 10 million times better at making the bubbles do whatever you want, but I’m pretty sure they wouldn’t be here if you thought they were stupid. Unless you were dwelling on shit, but you aren’t physically capable of that.’

‘Thanks, Karkat,’ you say sarcastically. 

He walks around to face you, his eyebrows all judgey at the fact that you’ve made him go to the effort of moving. 

‘What do the plants mean, John?’

You shrug, looking at the floor. More mistletoe sprouts where your eyes land. 

‘If you stand under them, you’re supposed to kiss. It’s whatever.’

‘We’re sure standing under them,’ Karkat points out. ‘And I have no cultural background with foul tasting kissing plants, so is there maybe something you want to tell me?’

‘I don’t want to kiss you!’ you insist.

‘Uh huh,’ Karkat says. ‘I’m sure this is entirely unrelated. Do you want to play the stupid plumber game or not?’

You and Karkat sit on the couch and play even as the stupid plants crawl up the TV screen and start blocking the picture. When they start growing out of the couch cushions, you just shuffle closer to the middle.

You glance over at Karkat, who looks like he’s focusing harder on the game than he’s ever focused on anything. He has a stubborn set to his jaw and when he catches you looking at him, he glares at you briefly before doubling down on breaking yet another one of your fake Nintendo 64 controllers. The bubbles will just replace them, but still.

You know Karkat now, this Karkat specifically. This Karkat and you have kind of bonded because you barely got into the game before you died. You both kinda felt responsible for the rest of your friends following your example. Him being so angry at himself made your own feelings seem okay in a way you’d never really felt before. You literally couldn’t overreact next to him. And you remember the first time you made him laugh after his eyes turned white. It felt like you were the most important person in the world.

You thumb your controller idly, but the mistletoe isn’t stopping and you know Karkat’s just going to ignore it until he double dies of stubbornness. 

You think there’s a teensy possibility that the stupid plants are coming from your brain.

It’s not like you want to kiss Karkat! It’s just that it’s Christmas and he makes it okay that you’re dead, maybe he even makes it good that you’re dead and you _know_ you weren’t alone before but you _were._

And you’re not, now. In a way that means a lot of different things, but mostly just means that. You like the space you occupy and the guy who is beside you.

‘Karkat, I don’t think the mistletoe is going away.’

‘No shit,’ he scoffs. ‘I thought it would be literally inside me before you caved, but I would happily reverse-ingest human Earth plants if it meant you breaking first.’

You stare at your controller. It’s nothing, it doesn’t mean anything, you just want to be close to him all the time and your brain is being stupid. That’s your brain’s favourite thing to do.

‘I think maybe if we kiss then it’ll stop.’

Karkat looks at you and his eyes are suddenly wide and vulnerable, none of the forced anger or brashness or any of that. His eyeliner makes his eyes look kind of cute instead of kind of mean when he looks like this. 

You try and lean in, but he’s sitting all weird and not meeting you halfway. You frown at him. He takes in this quick little breath, still looking nervous, and then presses his lips to yours.

He pulls back and you can see that it’s already working, they’re disappearing. 

‘Didn’t work,’ you say, hoping he can’t tell that the couch is already free of them. ‘Again?’

He smiles knowingly at you and your heart does something strange and frightening. He kisses you again. 


End file.
